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“Yeah. I can see that. I remember how many times I told my parents I’m fine, or coaches, or teammates, or even Lucy. I was never fine.”
“Well that’s you. I’m fine. Iamfine.”
“Look, I have no business being a therapist. Hell, I’m the last one you should take advice from.”
“Good,” I bark, “then don’t offer any.”
He pauses for a moment as if he’d changed his mind. I was wrong. “Wes and I corner the market on asshole. It’s not a good look on you. Too pretty.”
I set my nearly empty glass on the floor between my feet before my right thumb and index finger do the dance they’ve been trained to do. They massage forward and back over the wedding band, which is still part of my daily existence.
Sam knocks the side of his closed fist over my knee a couple of times. “You don’t have to apologize for what you’re going through. No one can understand but you. However, I’ve done enough solo and group therapy to recognize what I’m seeing.”
“What is that Dr. Roark?” I joke with a small smile.
“Fear. You’re afraid to let go of what was and afraid of what could be. Let me guess you go to work, not just because you have to, but because it’s safe. You stay locked up in your palace in the sky because then you don’t have to face what might be without her even though you’re without her no matter what.
“Listen, brother, fear is the enemy here, not what’s beyond it.”
“Jesus, Ice, have you been reading some of my philosophy books?”
“No. I know all too well about fear. Don’t forget, Lucy left me too. The only difference is, I did it to myself. You didn’t. I have a feeling you still think after over two years that if you’d done something different she’d still be here or, and I hope this is not the case, that she might still come back.”
“I know she won’t come back.”
“Would you want her if she did?”
He asks the question so quickly I don’t have time to come up with a sexy response. It only needs one word. “No.”
“Exactly. No. Tori was not and is not good enough for you. I won’t tell you all the reasons why, you already know. I won’t call her all the names I want to now, it won’t help. She took your past, don’t let her take your future. Fear is the enemy. It’s the only one that matters.”
We sit next to each other for a few minutes in silence while the city and the crowds around us remain a constant buzz. Everytime I’ve seen Sam since he got out of rehab four years ago, he seems stronger and more put together than I’ve ever known him to be. “I’m proud of you. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”
“Thanks. I’m proud of myself, too.” Sam winks with a smile. “Now that the sap is out of the way, how about you let the Eli I know out for just a little while. I’m not saying make Wes the wingman for once, just have some conversation. I might even have a project for you.”
“You want to talk shop? Shit. I thought we were going to get back into the Roy/Fleury battle.”
“You’d lose that battle all day every day. I’d like to take my Foundation, well my family and I would like to take it, to the next level. I’d like to get your take on it and see what potential there is.”
“With the new Iceman, I think the sky’s the limit.”
Chapter Two
Elijah
Sam gave me a lot to think about, nearly too much. After I left Wes and Sam to close it down, I didn’t want to go home. For once, I don’t want an endless night at the office either. I choose to leave the city and head to my parents’ house on Long Island. They’re supposed to be in the Hamptons, so I can raid the kitchen and portions of the liquor cabinet with the cat alone.
I punch in the code for the gate, and the slow slide of the metal is all I can hear out the window besides the crickets. I’m glad I left the noise of the city. I need a quieter environment to think about all the things the boys pointed out in their clear, and not always tactful, ways.
I put my car in park outside, behind the fourth stall, my usual spot. I sit still with the car running when the motion lights finally pick me up. Just to their right is the basketball hoop.
I played every day as a kid. I teased my dad for not taking it down after I left. My sister, Hayley never picked up a ball for even one single granny shot. Dad said he didn’t mind leaving it.He also said we weren’t done playing, the grandkids would use it. He wanted a four-generation game of H-O-R-S-E.
I want that too. Very much.
I’m glad our nearest neighbors are a good quarter mile away. Two o’clock in the morning basketball usually is frowned upon. I just want to live by myself in that dream for a minute or twenty. I can tell it’s going to be well past four before I’m even settled enough to consider sleep.
Kicking off some of this funk with a bit of sweat doesn’t seem like a bad idea. I pop the lid on the outdoor gear bin. All three balls are in there. We have my father’s ball from when he was a kid. He refuses to retire it. He said it’s like an old glove and has tons of miles still on it.
